I learned early that touching people was dangerous.
Not because they would hurt me—but because I would see them.
A simple handshake, and suddenly I'd be inside their past.Fragments of laughter. Broken promises. Regrets they never spoke aloud.
It wasn't a gift.
It was noise.
So I stopped touching people.
No handshakes. No hugs. No accidental brushes in crowded trains.I lived in careful distance.
Until the day I met her.